


Rag and Bone Sympathy

by thattrainssailed



Series: Words Hung Above, But Never Would Form [10]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, based on the 3x18 promo, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 14:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thattrainssailed/pseuds/thattrainssailed
Summary: Alec Lightwood has never been a first choice.He has always been an extra. The contingency plan. The one gazed upon with disappointed eyes, met with a sigh and a begrudging gesture. He is passed over the first time, every time. He has made his peace with it.





	Rag and Bone Sympathy

Alec Lightwood has never been a first choice.

He has always been an extra. The contingency plan. The one gazed upon with disappointed eyes, met with a sigh and a begrudging gesture. He is passed over the first time, every time. He has made his peace with it.

When Jace asks Alec to be his  _parabatai_ , young eyes shining, Alec could not, in a thousand years, ever say no. As they grip hands and hold tight, Alec does so with the knowledge that this is a matter of convenience. Jace desperately wants a parabatai - a partner, someone to anchor himself. None of the other young shadowhunters are particularly keen to tie themselves like that, and Isabelle is barely old enough to participate in training. Circumstance makes the decision for Jace; it is an unspoken fact that if he had a choice, he would not have picked his quiet, brooding, too-serious brother.

It follows from there, really. Their parents make no pretense of their favouritism. Jace is their golden boy, the child they always wanted. Fierce, brave, strong, charming. He holds his head high through the praise and lets it curve a smile onto his face. Perhaps it is for the best that as others admire Jace’s talent, they miss the disinterested glance spared to Alec by his parents as he purifies an arrow. He sets his jaw. If they find disappointment in his choice of weapon, they would tear apart at the secret Alec holds close to his chest. Jace beams at him. Alec burns and looks away.

They grow older. Soon it is not only Jace who takes precedent to Alec, but Isabelle as well. The two younger siblings throw themselves into parties and pleasure, teenage abandon guiding them. Once or twice they coax Alec out with them, but he quickly learns that the anxiety of the outings is not worth the outcome. When faced with the trio, strangers only tend to notice two. Alec slips out of the venue and instead tracks a demon lurking a few blocks away. Venom stings his arm before his arrow can pierce leathery skin. As he stands over the corpse, he thinks of Isabelle and Jace. Of charm and beauty. Of rejection. The wound on his arm does not hurt less, but he finds that the pain soothes. He does not apply an  _iratze_  until the sunrise.

Then he meets Magnus Bane.

The warlock is the most beautiful being Alec has ever seen. More beautiful than he knew it was possible for people to be, let alone men. He moves like water, waves of magic splashing from his fingers. When their eyes meet, Alec feels a rip pull him under. Magnus looks at him with interest. Curiosity. (Alec doesn’t let himself think, desire.) As they join the rest of their group, Alec’s heart drops far more painfully than he could ever admit to. One more moment alone with Magnus, one more moment of that gaze, one more moment before Magnus sees Jace and Isabelle and forgets of Alec’s existence entirely.

But it never comes.

Magnus instructs them to get their team ready. More specifically, he instructs “pretty boy”. Jace walks forward - of course he does - but to everyone’s surprise, Magnus boredly halts him.

He halts Jace and looks past him. Look at Alec.

Alec doesn’t trust it, of course. A warlock he barely knows giving him what he’s always wanted. It rings with everything the Clave has ever taught him about Downworlders, about their manipulation. But beneath that, in some alcove of his heart that Alec did not know of, lays hope.

Magnus calls him and it floods.

It doesn’t stop. Magnus calls him, and then asks for him, and then they’re drinking on the balcony and Magnus is  _flirting_  so obviously, and Alec stumbles, unsure of what to say, and yet Magnus keeps looking at him. Wants to look at him.

They choose each other. Magnus looks past the brighter siblings and chooses Alec. Alec marches down his aisle and chooses Magnus.

Not even the angel could give him this kind of heaven.

They choose each other, over and over. Against the Clave. Against Maryse. Against demons. Alongside the Downworld. Even when others look past them - Jace is given first offer of the Head of the Institute; Lorenzo takes the title of High Warlock - they are each other’s decision.

They choose each other.

And then they can’t.

Asmodeus sits across from Alec, smirk curving over his face, cat eyes glowing so familiarly. For the first time, the golden sight fills Alec’s throat with bile. A decision must be made. Alec, or Magnus’ magic. Magnus is not there, knows nothing of Alec’s bargain. And for the first time, Alec understands completely.

Because he always had some conception of why he was never first choice. Others are better, brighter, more well-loved. Alec has always lacked many things, and on a case by case basis, he recognised them. But now, confronted with this - forced to choose against himself - he finds the choice easy. Magnus’ essence, his very soul. Or Alec.

It is not parts of him that are lacking. It is his whole. The moment he thinks of it, something falls into place, and it seems as natural as breathing. The sun will rise, the wind will blow, nephilim will hunt, and Alec Lightwood is not enough.

Asmodeus’ palm is freezing against his.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm... so sorry.
> 
> Title from Sorrow by The National.
> 
> Yell at me on [tumblr](https://thattrainssailed.tumblr.com/).


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